


[ Two Plus One ]

by VesperCat



Series: Elio/Oliver fics [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mpreg, One Shot, slight A/B/O theme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesperCat/pseuds/VesperCat
Summary: “Oliver,” Elio takes a deep breath in, hands instinctively going to his lower belly.
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Series: Elio/Oliver fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1252790
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	[ Two Plus One ]

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Two Minus One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22511902).

**about a month**

Elio is busy on his piano, music sheets strew about the lid and a pencil held between teeth.

Oliver enters their living room, leaning over the piano’s lid to take in the progression of Elio’s musical musings.

“Hey,” Oliver says, nosing his husband's neck, “dinner is done, that's if you want to eat,”

“I'll try, okay?” Elio says as they make their way to the kitchen.

“Okay and I didn't use any beef as requested,”

“Thanks,” Elio appreciates, placing two stuffed baked potatoes on his plate and waits for Oliver to plate his portion and take a seat.

Elio is five bites in when he starts to feel nauseous again for what feels like the hundredth time that week, pushes away from the table and rushes to the bathroom. Luckily this time around he's just dry heaving into the white toilet bowl.

Oliver gently rubs up and down Elio’s back, “Maybe you should go see someone because this is beyond food poisoning,”

“Yeah?” Elio says, “I'll make an appointment tomorrow,”

+×+×+×+

**about 2 months**

“Oliver,” Elio takes a deep breath in, hands instinctively going to his lower belly.

“Yeah?” Oliver looks up from his books and stacks of papers about his dark desk, the corners of his lips are curved slightly upwards.

Elio takes another shaking breath and whispers, “I am with child,”

Oliver’s smile falters slightly then becomes blinding, standing up and coming around the desk to pull the smaller male into a near death grip of joy.

“Do you know how far along we are?”

“About seven weeks,” Elio says, digging into his pant’s pockets and pulling out the sonogram to show Oliver.

+×+×+×+

**about 3 months**

Elio is startled awake from an unintended nap by the house telephone’s ring. He removes the book from his lap but before he could get up the phone stops ringing and Oliver’s voice booms in greetings.

He gets up anyway and goes to wrap his arms around his husband's waist, forehead resting between shoulder blades.

“Yes, yes… it's your parents,” Oliver informs Elio whilst running their free hand up and down Elio’s arm, “it's been awhile, yeah, we should have called earlier, yeah,”

Elio rubs their forehead against Oliver's back.

“Elio is awake and has some news for you,” Oliver says, passing the receiver to Elio, swaps places and slips his lean fingers under purple cotton.

“(Hi, mom and dad),” Elio greets in Italian but switches to English, “how’re you doing?”

“Good,” and “Well,” come the replies, they're using different receivers Elio concludes.

“Oliver said you have news,” Samuel prompts after a few moments of catch up.

“Yeah,” Elio pauses, takes a breath in, leans against Oliver, “Uhm, we're pregnant,”

A silence stretches for a few seconds.

Annella responds first, “Oh? That's, that's unexpected. How far–”

“About three months,” Elio whispers, realising just now what an impact it has on him since he hasn't told anyone besides Oliver.

“Congratulations,” comes tentatively from Samuel’s side.

+×+×+×+

**about 4 months**

“(Where's the baby going to sleep?)” Elio asks one evening while they're laying in bed. Back to chest with one of Oliver’s arms under Elio’s neck with Elio swishing his thumb over Oliver's palm. Oliver’s other hand is gently stroking Elio's barely there bump.

“(We could move into my study and this could be the baby's room),” Oliver suggests.

“Yeah?” Elio turns over to face Oliver, a leg hooking over a calf.

“The room should be big enough,” Oliver says, placing a hand on Elio’s neck, stroking over his Adam's apple then moving on to caress Elio’s earlobe.

+×+

When Elio returns home to grab some of his sheet music he forgot to take with him that morning, he finds the house’s front door unlocked. Carefully he toes the door open and takes a peek inside. His heart rate increases dramatically when he hears someone rushing down the stairs, he quickly turns around to walk briskly down the street.

“Elio!” someone shouts behind him but he ignores it and picks up his pace and is glad that he jogs with Oliver everyday. 

“Elio, wait!” the person grabs his shoulder and turns him around.

“No, let me–Oliver?!” Elio shouts, pulling himself out of the grasp.

“Sorry. I'm sorry I scared you,” 

“What?” Elio’s eyebrows knit together, “why are you here, you're supposed to be lecturing,”

“I took a day off, got a friend to help move the heavy stuff and started in the baby's room,” Oliver explains, extending his hand to Elio, “do you want to see it?”

“Yeah,” Elio says and nudges Oliver’s shoulder, “sorry that I ran from you,”

“It's fine, understandable,” Oliver consoles and they start strolling back to their home.

+×+×+×+

**about 5 months**

Oliver finds Elio sitting cross legged next to their bookshelf and a box with various items nearby.

Oliver touches Elio’s Billowy covered shoulder, letting him know that he’s here, “What's happening here?”

“Making space by going through some things that I don't want anymore,” Elio answers, trying to sound indifferent.

Oliver sits behind his husband and wraps his arms around the younger man, adjusting the picture in Elio’s hand to see the gray blimp amongst the black background with a yellowing glaze.

“Little One would have been 12 now,” Elio says, voice cracking.

“Mmhmm,” Oliver hums, pulls Elio impossibly closer and feels tears stinging the corners of his eyes, “I felt so utterly useless, inadequate and numb–”

“I'm grateful that you were here for the morning sickness even though we didn't know that it was morning sickness,” Elio interrupts, trying to lighten their moods. Oliver chuckles softly and tickles Elio’s sides lightly but stops once Elio releases a laugh.

They sit comfortably together until Elio taps Oliver’s hands to release him, puts the photograph back into the photo album sleeve and leans against him again ,“maybe it was for the better at that moment,”

“Yeah?” Oliver questions, noses Elio’s hair, “I feel so much better now that I'm going through the ups and downs with you,”

+×+

Elio’s coming down their wooden stairway, a washing basket balanced on one of his hips.

“Come on,” Oliver whines, taking the washing basket out of Elio’s hands, “I told you I'll take over the laundry,”

“Oliver, I'm fine,” Elio says, giving Oliver a kiss and takes the basket back, ”I'm pregnant not a quadriplegic,”

“Still, let me help you,”

Elio smirks as he enters the laundry area with Oliver following suit.

+×+×+×+

**about 6 months**

They're eating a modified dinner when Elio stops mid sentence, hands disappearing under the table and his lips curve up slightly.

“Elio? Elio are you okay?” Oliver asks, putting his cutlery down, concerned that they're having a repeat of their first pregnancy.

“Mmmh?” Elio acknowledges, grabbing Oliver’s hand and placing it on the small bump, “can you feel it?”

Oliver frowns feeling nothing and just before he voices his concern he feels the little thump, then another.

“That's- That's our baby,” Oliver says, lips splitting into a smile, ecstatic but quieting down to just feel.

A few minutes later the baby seems to have calmed down so much that not even Elio can feel its movements anymore.

“When was the first that you could feel them move?” Oliver asks, removing his hands as they carry on with their dinner.

“When I was playing two weeks ago,” Elio answers after he takes a sip of his vanilla milkshake and a forkful of his fish finger, ”but when I tried to feel from the outside, I couldn't,”

+×+×+×+

**about 7 months**

Elio’s busy looking at a general store's selection of baby clothes while Oliver was elsewhere getting their groceries. He has a few baby-grows in hand and is trying to decide on a size when a salesperson hovers by his side.

The salesperson touches Elio’s belly and asks, “is it a girl or boy?”

“We don't know,” Elio replies, folding the edges of his jacket over his stomach effectively cutting the unwarranted touching off, “we didn't want to know,”

“Maybe get the yellow or purple one then,” the salesperson carries on as if nothing happened, their smile becoming a little too wide.

“Yeah,” Elio says, takes the yellow one and puts the others back on the rack, turns around to see Oliver walking down a nearby aisle and joins him towards the cashiers.

+×+

Elio moans as Oliver gently massages his lower back on their sofa, Elio leaning with their forearms on the sofa’s arm. 

“Did you keep today's shopping’s receipt?” Elio queries.

“Yeah,” Oliver responds, slowing his touch.

“Could you return the baby-grow we bought sometime, please?”

“Why?” Oliver stops the soothing motions, “There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it,”

“I panicked when the salesperson touched me and I wanted leave but they were an Alpha,”

“ _Elio_ ,” Oliver says, turns to face his partner, ”we could have gone to the manager and–”

“It's fine, sometimes it's better to leave things,” Elio pleads, placing Oliver’s hands over his stomach, “we have other priorities now besides Hierarchy crap,”

Elio leans forwards, head nudging against Oliver's shoulder first, travels up his neck, places a quick kiss to his partner’s lips and stops with forehead touching forehead.

+×+×+×+

**about 8 months**

“Oliver, stop, please,” Elio begs as he comes to a stop and first leans over himself, hands on knees before sitting on a curb stone.

They've been running or rather walking in the afternoons instead of the mornings since Oliver has let Elio sleep in lately.

Oliver stops, concerned, “Are you going into labour, should I call an ambulance, get the hospital bag?”

“I think it's just,” Elio says, taking a deep breath in,“shortness of breath and false contractions,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep,” Elio says, standing up, “maybe I should just walk around the house instead,”

“Are you sure, sure?” Oliver asks, taking Elio’s hand in his and giving it a kiss.

“Who’s the pregnant one here? I will know when I go into labour,”

“Alright, alright,”

“Speaking of labour, we should probably pack a hospital bag when we get back,”

+×+×+×+

**about 9 months**

“OLiver!” Elio shouts in pain as he hears the front door open.

“I'm coming!” Oliver shouts back, dropping his briefcase in their entryway and rushes further into their living room. When he doesn't spot Elio immediately he starts to really panic until he hears a groan from the piano corner.

Elio is laying on the wooden floor, arms anchored around his belly. The piano’s chair pushed aside.

“Oh, Elio,” Oliver comes down to Elio’s level and manoeuvres him in a sitting position, a hand brushing hair off a sweaty forehead, “why didn't you call?”

“Too tried,” Elio huffs out, face contouring as another contraction occurs,”too sudden,”

“It's okay, it's okay. Let's go to the hospital,” Oliver asserts, shifting them so that he can carry Elio to their car after a failed attempt of Elio trying to stand.

+×+

“You did so well, Elio,” Oliver whispers, kissing the sweat soaked temple of Elio as he releases the death grip on Oliver’s hand, “they're so beautiful,”

A nurse places the newborn on Elio’s chest and even though he's never been this exhausted in his life he cradles his screaming child closer and begins to cry of joy.

When a nurse tries to take the babe away to wrap them in a blanket Elio refuses, “No, they're mine! Mine. Oliver tell them they're mine.”

“It's okay, it's okay,” Oliver looks to the nurse and asks, ”could I do it?”

The nurse looks nervously around but then agrees, handing the white cotton over to Oliver. Oliver coaxes the babe out of Elio’s arms and carefully wraps his child with the nurse’s guidance. 

“It's good to have an alpha such as you around,” the nurse muses as she checks over Oliver’s handiwork.

“He's a perfectly good beta,” Elio asserts, adjusting the tiny human in his arms once Oliver has given their baby back.

“My apologies,” Oliver starts, “we had some run ins along the way,”

“I've heard worse,” the nurse waves the apology off, “it's a good thing that they're so protective though,”


End file.
